Why I’m Glad I’m Not a Good Plumber (And What I Learned Along the Way)
It started, as most home improvement stories do, with an idea. My first house had only 1 bathroom and I wanted a second. Makes sense when you have roommates and also good for resale, right?? I had already how to frame, tile and run the electric. I just needed to pick up some books on plumbing and I was off to the races. (To be clear, I bought my first house in 2000 and YouTube launched December of 2005)
At first, I thought: How hard can it be? After all, I’m a reasonably competent person. A fast learner, avid reader and had accumulated a few tools. Just connect a few pipes and voila—problem solved. Emboldened by optimism (and, perhaps, a touch of hubris), I rolled up my sleeves and set about addressing what I assumed would be a straightforward problem.
It didn’t take long to realize my mistake.
Now most people’s stories of plumbing disaster are centered around the supply side. Leaking pipes with multiple attempts to repair, solder burns and hours of frustration before calling for help. (I have plenty of those too!) But this particular time, I was adding a bathroom where there had not been one before, so I also needed to add the DWV (drain- waste-vent) system. I ran ABS pipe from my basement up through the roof, just as the book said. I placed a temporary plug at the bottom most point of that pipe and, just as the book said, I climbed onto my 2 story roof with a hose and filled the entire system with water to test for leaks.
No leaks! (Wow, I really can do anything)
All that was left to do was remove the plug in the basement and make my final connections before closing the walls to finish up the new bathroom. As I removed that plug with my 5 gallon backet in hand so I didn’t spill any water in the basement, it never occurred to me what the book might have left out. Until that 30 foot tall column of water came rocketing out like a firehose – knocking the bucket out of my hand and completely soaking me and everything across the entire basement. This is an image that will live in my mind forever and my biggest regret is that it wasn’t caught on video.
It was in that moment, with water dripping from, well, everywhere and myself and my friend who saw the whole thing doubled over in laughter, that I realized: plumbing is not for the faint of heart. There’s a reason professionals exist, and it’s not just to charge hourly rates.
Plumbing isn’t just about pipes and wrenches. It’s about anticipating water pressure, knowing the right order to disassemble fittings, and recognizing when something is about to go catastrophically wrong. My attempts to “wing it” revealed just how much I don’t know. I discovered that improvisation works for jazz, not for home plumbing.
My downfall began with a well-meaning but overly optimistic book. (Remember, I am old and YouTube wasn’t an option) It was probably titled “Home Improvement 1-2-3” or “Renovations for Dummies” (appropriate!). I have watched lots of This Old House and those guys, still my heroes, made it look effortless. I, on the other hand, have managed to strip a bolt, drop a washer behind a cabinet, and discover three different types of plumber’s tape – literally countless errors and trips back to Home Depot.
It turns out that every house is its own beast, and what works on the internet (or in books) doesn’t always translate to reality. Pipes corrode, fittings warp, and nothing is ever quite as clean as it looks on screen.
It’s humbling to realize that proficiency takes time and practice. Watching someone else do something is not the same as doing it yourself. My confidence was quickly replaced by patience—patience to struggle through each misstep, and patience to admit when I needed help. Yes, I am still working on being patient.
Defeated but undeterred, I reached for my phone—not to watch another video, but to call a real plumber. There was a moment of hesitation, a voice in my head whispering that I should be able to handle this. But pride is a poor substitute for dry floors and working sinks.
When the plumber arrived, they assessed the situation with a calm efficiency that bordered on artistry. Within minutes, the problem was not only fixed but explained to me in terms I could finally understand. My basement was dry and my bathroom project was back on track.
We live in a world that idolizes self-sufficiency, but sometimes the wisest thing we can do is admit when we’re out of our depth. Calling for help wasn’t a defeat. It was a step toward a solution.
As I mopped up the last of the water and replaced my collection of mismatched tools, I reflected on the experience. I may not have been able to be completely DIY, but I gained something arguably more valuable: perspective.
My bathroom misadventure reminded me that mistakes are inevitable. But it’s what we do with those mistakes—how we respond and what we learn—that truly counts. I learned about persistence, about humility, and about the importance of calling in experts when necessary.
Had everything gone smoothly, I would have missed out on the deeper lessons that come from failure. I’m a little more cautious now, a little more respectful of the skills others bring. And I’m definitely quicker to laugh at my own missteps.
Looking back, I can’t help but laugh at my plumbing debacle: the frantic attempts to put the plug back, the firehose of cold water, the triumphant call to a professional. It was messy, inconvenient, and a little embarrassing—but it was real. And it’s these stories, the ones where things don’t go according to plan, that make life interesting.
If every project went perfectly, we’d have nothing to share over dinner, nothing to look back on with a smile. My shortcomings as a plumber are now part of my story—and hopefully a source of laughter for friends and family.
In the end, I didn’t fix it entirely on my own. But I gained a healthy respect for the complexity of plumbing, the value of expertise, and the importance of humility. I learned that it’s okay not to be good at everything. In fact, it’s the things we struggle with that often teach us the most.
So, the next time you hear a drip, remember: it’s not just water—it’s an invitation to learn, to laugh, and, sometimes, to call a plumber.
After all, life’s greatest lessons are rarely learned when everything goes according to plan. And if my bathroom adventures have taught me anything, it’s that being a bad plumber can make you a better learner—and a better storyteller.